Stop #11 - Cooktown by Daddy

Cooktown was one of the destinations we were not sure about, tossing up whether the long drive up and down would be worthwhile.

After deliberating, and given that we are not likely to come up this part of QLD for a long time, we decide to head up there for 3 nights.  

We book a site at the Big 4 caravan, based on recommendations by fellow travellers.  The kids were not particularly impressed with the caravan park, as they have become accustomed to all the comforts a Big 4 provides such as Water Parks, Putt Putt golf, Jumping Pillows etc.  This caravan park had a small pool, modest Camp Kitchen and Unisex toilet/showers.  From looking around at what's in Cooktown, we may have found the best from a bad bunch; or we were just expecting too much from a caravan park near the top of Australia.

Much of our time in Cooktown was spent sightseeing and finding out the history of the town.  The main street of Cooktown is strewn with statues, monuments and plaques educating tourists of the rich past of the town.  At it's peak, it was a thriving town funded by the goldrush from the nearby Palmer River.  

Like most boom towns, it went bust when the gold ran out and further acts of god crippled the struggling town.  Today, the town is built on tourism and a fishing/prawning industry.

  

We strolled through the historical path in the centre of town. 

Catching up with Uncle

The Chinese are recognised for their contribution to developing Cooktown

 After we learn about the history of Cooktown, we head up to the grassy hill where Cook surveyed the headlands and tried to map a path out to sea, after his crew had finished repairing the Endeavour.  

Cooktown is reknowned for being one of the windiest towns in Australia, especially once the trade winds kick in; we certainly bore the brunt of the winds and it was blowing a gale the whole time we were in the town. 

After the grassy hill, we head to the Botanic gardens and check out Finch Bay, Jackie wary of the crocodiles that may lurk in the creeks.

One morning we (great suggestion by dad) ride to the local bakery, moments after we leave the caravan park it buckets down and the kids are soaked.  They do well to ride through the deluge and we scurry into the bakery like drowned rats.  

The big breakfast warmed their bellies and they soon forgot about the rain.

We also visit the Cook Museum, reading more about Captain Cook's trials and tribulations, his observations and journal entries.  On display is the Endeavour's anchor and cannon which was retrieved from the sea in 1971. The museum also showcases the Chinese and Indigenous influences, as well as the Catholic church's role in early Cooktown.

A note of interest and comfort to me was Cook's journal entry stating that his men struggled to find ways to catch fish, even though they could see significant surface activity.  At the least, I can be comforted in knowing that the Cookmeister and his men struggled to catch fish, next time I have a hard day at the office.

  

After doing some research on Cooktown, I discover that a few klms south of Cooktown is Archer Point, where the Barrier Reef comes close to the shore and there can be good fish caught from the shore and rockwalls; unfortunately due to the crocodiles and stingers, you can't swim there and with the gale, fishing was not likely.  We decide to head to Archer point anyway, as the views and scenery are meant to be spectacular.

On the last afternoon at Cooktown, I bite the bullet and decide to go on a fishing charter.  With the wind howling, fishing on the reef was not an option, however there would be sections in the Endeavour river that would be fishable.

Upon arriving at the boat ramp, I am pleased to hear that I am the sole person on the charter, meaning I essentially have a personal fishing guide for the afternoon; not bad for $130.

 We struggle to get some bait.  After searching a few areas, we finally have enough bait to start fishing.

First stop is at the mouth of the river, where we try to catch some yellow mouthed Trevally.  After an hour or so, no luck and we move on.

Back up river, we anchor sideways to the current adjacent to fallen trees.  There are snags below us.  We throw out a rod each, with live Herring attached to the end of our lines.  It is a while until we start getting touches on our line.  The bites are not the strong thump and runs that I expect or am told we'd get from Fingermark or Mangrove Jack, rather little taps on the line.

I manage to hook a plethora of small fish, including cod, frog fish, and a couple of undersized Mangrove Jack.  I hook onto something that feels big, it finds it's way into the snags and I am stuck.  I can still feel the fish on the line, and it still manages to pull line, despite being stuck in the snags.  The guide (Tom) calls it for either an eel or a big cod.  I maintain pressure on the fish, hoping the snag will break or the fish will swim out.  No such luck.  After a few minutes, I hand the rod over to Tom who forces the fish free after breaking the snag.  As he brings the fish up, we see an eel attached to the end of the line; Tom was right.

We stay at the spot for a while longer, I finally catch a keeper Mangrove Jack, and Tom catches a Trevally.

On our way to the next spot, we check the crab pots that Tom put out earlier.  There are lots of crabs in the pots, but only two legal sized male keepers.  One of the pots has it's bait taken, Tom suspects a crocodile has been in the pot.  We re-bait the pot, throw them back in and move onto our next fishing spot.

At the next fishing spot Tom catches a Trevally, I land a Tarpon, undersized Fingermark and other smaller fish.  The big fish eludes us.

Time gets the better of us, and we head back to the boat ramp.  On the way back we check the crab pots one more time.  On the last one, we see that the crab pot has been moved out to the channel, from it's original position in the creek.  Tom notes the changes in position, and calls it for a croc getting into the pot.  We lift the crab pot up, and it has been torn apart, we manage to scoop up an escaping crab, which turns out to be a keeper male; Three crabs for dinner.  Tom does some repair work on the crab pot, we re-bait it with fresh fish carcass and drive back to the creek.  As we approach the creek, Tom points to the entrance and exclaims "There he is", I pivot and see two eyes looking directly at us, and then it slowly sinking into the murky water.  

We continue our path towards the crocodile, and Tom points to his side scan sounder, "here he is".  I look at 

the side scanner and can see a distinct crocodile shape on the sounder, it had lowered itself under the boat to avoid detection.  

Tom estimated the croc to be between 3-4 metres.  We place the crab pot in a different location, and head back to the boat ramp.

Although we did not catch an monster fish, I certainly took home a good feed of fish, and had a great time on the local river with a fantastic fishing guide.  I'll have to wait longer for the big fish.

  

Cooktown was a great little stop, one we're glad we made, and well worth the extra time to drive up and down the coast.